


PP!I (abandoned WiP)

by kayliemalinza



Series: Abandoned WiPs [6]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Doppelganger, Gen, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-08-26
Updated: 2009-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While out wrangling an alien, Team Torchwood suddenly becomes responsible for a smart-aleck kid from the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ABANDONED WIP

Jack's coat flaps slapped thickly against the night air. He hoped the Rift Gift—animal, vegetable, or mineral?—wouldn't spook at the sound and flee, or worse, jump to the ready. A moment later, the question was moot: the crooked alleys echoed a crescendo of throaty clicking, a brief howl, a sudden snort and snuffle. Something thumped. Something... _cursed_.

"Step off, you fucking monster!" The voice was reedy, stretched with stress, and undoubtedly Welsh.

Jack careened around the final corner with his gun straight-armed, aiming for the biggest mass: something with three and a half legs and terrifying silhouette. The lamplight flickered yellow on the soft-lipped snout. "Got a Domax here!" Jack yelled. "You there! Step back!"

"Which of us are you talking to?" shouted the reedy voice.

Jack barely glanced at that corner of the alley intersection, just enough to see that the other being involved was small and wearing late 20th or early 21st century clothes; jeans and a t-shirt were not terribly specific. He already knew it spoke English.

"I'm talking to the big thing with the teeth," Jack gritted out. "But you should get out of the way."

The Domax swiveled its head from Jack to the probably-human and scratched four great claws on the ground. It uttered something low and phlegmy.

"Just settle down," Jack said, one hand peeling away from the gun to wave at the Domax in a not-quite-universal shushing gesture. Gwen's voice came softly through his ear.

"Jack, I'm coming up on the other side of the alley. What's the plan?"

"No bullets," said Jack, stepping slowly to the left and then the right, keeping the Domax non-threatened but focused on him. "You have a stun gun?"

"Affirmative," said Gwen.

"Why the hell would I have a stun gun?" said the probably-human.

Jack gave it another glance. "I wasn't talking to you," he said, modifying his assessment to 'probably-human-boy.' "What the hell are you doing in dark alleys at eleven at night?"

"I'm not a _baby_ ," scowled the probably-human-boy. He sounded as if he were scowling, anyway; Jack was still watching the Domax.

"I can see you now," Gwen crackled in his ear. "On three. One...."

"Hey, Domax," Jack said loudly. "Are you lost or something? We can help you out, buddy. We have a nice, warm cell all ready for you."

"Two...."

"Well, warmish," said Jack.

The Domax curled its upper lip at Jack, then suddenly swung its heavy head toward the probably-human-boy. Jack shouted and jumped forward; the probably-human-boy shrieked and jumped back, swinging something; Gwen shouted "Three!" (Jack felt that was unnecessary at this point) and leapt from the mouth of the alley, zapping the Domax with her stun gun. The Domax grunted, sizzled slightly, and thudded in spasms to the ground. The probably-human-boy shrieked again and smacked the Domax a few times on the head with a broken fence post.

"You can stop that now," Jack told him.

Gwen holstered her stun gun and hopped over the Domax's outflung arm. "Sweetheart, it's alright," she said, grabbing for the fence post. "It's all over now."

The probably-human-boy let her toss away the fence post—it landed with a muted _thunk_ , like it was rotted—but twisted away when she tried to touch him.

"You stay there," Jack said sharply. He kept his eye on the probably-human-boy long enough to see that he was complying, then went to study the Domax. He prodded it in the side with his boot, then regretted it. Domax sweat tended to ooze thickly through their fur, and stained. Jack poked his comm. "Owen, you'll need to bring the car around. This guy's pretty big."

"Are you hurt?" Gwen was saying.

"I'm fine now," said the probably-human-boy, sounding shaky. "What is that?"

"Well," said Gwen, "it's a, um. It escaped from a traveling zoo."

"What the fuck kind of zoo has that?" said the probably-human-boy, pointing.

"Don't use that kind of language," said Gwen.

"It's an alien," said Jack.

The probably-human-boy gave Jack a rather perfect look of suspicion and surreptitious belief. Now that Jack could see him a little better, lit half-way by the streetlamp, the kid seemed familiar—a bit lanky, soft and unformed around the mouth. Jack wondered if he went to a lot of games at the Millennium Centre, and Jack had seen him in the Plass.

Gwen's perfect look was exasperation-flavoured. " _Jack_ ," she hissed.

Jack shrugged and went over to pick up the fence post. "We'll have to Retcon him anyway."

"An alien like from outer space?" said the probably-human-boy, now promoted to 'kid' because it was shorter, and he had given Jack sass. Kids were always giving Jack sass.

"Jack, for God's sake, he's ten years old!" Gwen said.

"I'm twelve!" said the kid.

"We have ways of checking that, you know," said Jack.

The kid narrowed his eyes.

Jack smirked and poked the Domax with the fence post. Hard.

"Fine," said the kid. "I'm eleven. And three months!"

"Ok, sweetie," said Gwen. She reached to squeeze his shoulder, then turned it into a pat when the kid gave her a startled look. "Don't worry, we're going to get you home safe. Do you live around here?" She sounded a little unhappy at the end of that sentence, because 'around here' was crumbling, slicked wet with sewage, and hadn't been zoned as a residential area for over ten years.

The kid swiveled to look around the surrounding buildings, hands on his hips. "I thought I did," he said. "But.... it's probably a few streets over." He bit his lip and looked back at Gwen. "My father has a tailor shop on Salop Road," he said. "Why is there an alien here?"

"It fell through a rift in time and space," said Jack.

"We'll take you back to your parents," said Gwen.

"After the Retcon," said Jack.

Gwen glared.

"You're shitting me," said the kid.

"Language," warned Jack. "Owen, we could use that ride sooner rather than later."

"I'm almost there," Owen buzzed. "Not my fault these alleys are barely wide enough to fit a bicycle through."

"He has an imaginary friend named Owen?" the kid asked Gwen, a little too solicitously.

Jack waggled the fence post at him. "You better watch yourself, young man," he said.

The kid looked up at him for a moment, then held out his hand expectantly.

Jack gave him the fence post. The kid had found it, after all. "Have a poke," said Jack. "Once in a lifetime experience."

The kid crouched down and used the pointiest end of the fence post to lift up the floppy, blue-veined upper lip. "You called this a Domax?" he asked, scraping lightly at the pearlescent teeth.

"Yep," said Jack. "Omnivorous creature from a planet with bright yellow oceans. They're generally easy-going; you must have pissed him off somehow."

"Jack?" That was Tosh.

"Go ahead," said Jack, and smirked at the confused look the kid gave him.

"Did you find anything with the Domax?" she asked. "An artifact, perhaps?"

"No, why?" asked Jack, looking at the Domax's rear legs. The claws were twitching, a sign that it might wake up soon. "Should we be looking for one?"

"Seriously," said the kid. "Who the fuck is he talking to?"

"He has a Bluetooth," said Gwen. "I've got one, too."

"A what?"

Jack could hear the quiet beeping of Tosh's computer. "I'm not sure," she said. Her voice went quiet for a second as she murmured what sounded like, "Ianto, hand me those...." There was some rustling, and she came back. "I'm looking at the Rift spike readings from the past few minutes. There's a second, smaller spike I didn't notice before. It was hidden in the Rift energy that brought the Domax."

Jack took a quick glance around the alley. "Ok, we'll have a look around. Try and scrub out as much detail as you can."

Gwen was trying to explain something, but the kid was getting fancy with his eyebrows. "First it's aliens," he said. "Now you're saying there's cell phones small enough to fit in your _ear_?"

White lights phased across the Domax and the humans, and the SUV trundled into the alley. Owen's expletives upon realizing there wasn't quite enough room to open the door were swift and creative.

"Don't ding my paint!" yelled Jack.

"We'll get the Teaboy to fix it!" Owen yelled back, clambering over the seat divider to come out through the passenger side. "Is _that_ the thing we've been chasing?"

"No," said Gwen. "It's the thing _Jack and I_ have been chasing."

"Are you going to stick the Domax in the back of your car?" asked the kid.

"Who the hell are you?" said Owen. He looked at Gwen. "Who the hell is this?"

Tosh's computer whined excitedly. Jack wondered if she programmed it to do that, just to be more dramatic. "Find something?" he said dryly.

"Yes," she said. "That second spike of Rift energy? It's a temporal rift only."

"So something was moved through time, but stayed in the same place," said Jack.

The kid looked consideringly at the front end of the SUV. "You're going to have to drive out, then turn around and back up into the alley," he said. "Otherwise you'll never get the Domax in there."

"Who asked you?" said Owen. "Seriously, Gwen, we can't go around picking up strays."

"Owen, he's right," said Jack.

Owen glared at Jack, then at the Domax, then at the SUV. "Fuck," he said, and stomped back to the driver's seat.

"So he's Owen, and you're Gwen," said the kid. "And he's—"

"Captain Jack Harkness," said Jack, and held out his hand. The kid had a pretty good shake, despite being only eleven years and three months old and kind of skinny. "You? Hang on a minute. Say that again, Tosh?"

Tosh huffed. "I said, the second artifact should be very close to where you found the Domax. Almost right on top of it."

"Okay," said Jack. "Hey, Gwen? Look around for something that looks like it might be from the past or the future—"

"Past," said Tosh.

"Are you sure?" asked Jack.

"Ninety-nine point twelve percent," said Tosh. "Or thereabouts."

"Ok, works for me," said Jack. "Gwen, we're looking for something that might have come from the past, but still from Cardiff. Tosh says it should be close."

Gwen nodded and started walking about the alley, edging carefully by the front of the SUV as Owen eased it out in reverse.

The kid was still holding Jack's hand, so Jack shook it again. "Sorry about that," he said. "Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?"

"Jones," said the kid. "Ianto Jones."


	2. Chapter 2

"Jones," said the kid. "Ianto Jones."

Jack stared at him for almost a full four seconds, which could be fatal if that was one's response to, say, meeting a Dalek. Not that there were many reactions to meeting a Dalek that _weren't_ eventually fatal.

"Gwen?" he called out.

"Yeah," she answered, poking her head back into the alley. Her hair fuzzed white, red, and yellow from the SUV lights swiveling somewhere behind her.

"Hold up on that search for a minute, ok?" he said.

"I'll go help Owen then," she shrugged, and disappeared.

Jack looked back at the kid and smiled real friendly.

The kid stared back at him suspiciously.

"What year is it?" Jack asked.

The kid's resulting expression was elegant, insulting, and did a lot to confirm his identity. "You don't know what _year_ it is?" he said.

"Oh, I know what year it is," said Jack, "I'm just interested in finding out what year _you_ think it is."

The kid's eyes widened and he glanced erratically around the alley, at the cross-angled shadows from the SUV backing in, the softly snuffling Domax, and the splintered fence post. "It's not 1994, then?" he asked.

Jack shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's 2007."

The kid stared at him. "So that means I came through a—a—rift?" he said, voice inching up the octave. "Like that thing did?"

"Calm down," said Jack. "That looks like what happened, but we're not sure of everything yet."

"Am I going to see my parents again?" The kid sounded wobbly, stretched thin, and he flickered red from the SUV's tail lights.

" _Yes_ ," said Jack. He crouched in front of the kid and grabbed his arms, holding on when the kid tried to squirm away. "Ianto, I know that you're scared, and that this is all new to you, but we know what we're doing. We're going to get you back home, to your own place and time. You just have to trust us, Ianto. Can you do that?"

"...Jack?" Gwen was standing next to the just-parked SUV, staring at Jack and the kid. "What's going on?"

"Ianto is a common name," Owen muttered, his eyes squeezed shut. "Isn't it? It has to be. But then again, this would be just my luck."

"Save it, Owen," snapped Jack. He looked back at the kid, who was yanking against him. "Shh, shh," Jack said, squeezing the kid's upper arms in a soothing rhythm. "We're not going to let anything bad happen to you, but you need to stay with us."

"I'm not going anywhere," the kid said tensely. "Just—just—give me a minute. Leave me alone!" He shoved hard and Jack let him go. The kid stalked to a corner of the alley and stood there, facing the wall. He was half in shadow—the streetlamp was dingy compared to the SUV lights—but it looked like his back was jerking up and down, and both of his hands were up by his face.

Jack let out a deep sigh, then turned to the others. "Owen, we'll need the Domax properly sedated for the ride back. I'm going to sort out some logistics with—our people back in the Hub. Gwen?" Jack's voice went low. "Keep an eye on him."

Gwen nodded solemnly, and stepped over to that corner of the alley, keeping within the thin overlap of 'giving space' and 'staying close for support.'

Jack shut himself in the SUV and tapped the comm. "Tosh?"

"Jack, your channel was open," Tosh said breathlessly. "We heard everything."

"Interesting situation, isn't it?" said Jack with a half-laugh.

"Are we sure of his identity?" Ianto asked.

"As sure as we can be without a DNA test," Jack said. "And don't worry, we'll definitely do one of those. Either way, it's clear he came through the Rift. Tosh, is there any way we can send him back?" He heard some clacking, but knew it was just for effect. Tosh would have checked this as soon as she realized what was going on.

"The rift energy he came through is gone," she said. "The Rift predictor has a few hotspots in the few days, but I don't know if we can manipulate that energy with any accuracy—"

"You'll figure something out, Tosh, I know you will," Jack assured her. "In the meantime, we need to take care of him."

"I can't stay in the Hub if you're bringing him in," said Ianto. Jack wondered if he was standing next to Tosh, or if he'd removed himself elsewhere to make things ready and perfect with the anticipatory efficiency that Jack never stopped wondering at.

"You're bringing him in?" Tosh was surprised. "To the Hub?"

"We can't exactly leave him on the streets," said Jack. "Anyplace civilian is also out of the question, and—" he stopped himself. Tosh didn't know about Flat Holm.

"I don't know how you expect us to child-proof a secret anti-alien base in the next half-hour," Tosh pointed out.

Jack grinned. "We don't have to. He's not a baby. He told me so himself." If Jack concentrated very hard, he could hear Ianto smirking on the other end of the line.

"Tosh does have a point, though. We have trouble enough keeping the staff out of trouble. How old is he, can you estimate?"

"I'll do you one better. He is eleven years and three months old exactly," Jack said.

There was an odd little silence.

"Does that mean something to you?" Jack asked. "Do you remember anything strange happening then? Gaps in your memory?"

"Uh, no," said Ianto. "Nothing of that nature. It's just—"

"Oh my," said Tosh.

"What?" said Jack. "What's going on?"

"You should see his face," said Tosh.

"I'd really like to hear his voice," Jack said pointedly.

Ianto sighed deeply. "When I was about eleven and twelve, I went through a phase."

"I see," said Jack.

"I'm not proud of it," said Ianto.

Tosh giggled quietly in the background.

"I've dealt with attitude problems before," said Jack. "Hell, I've dealt with _your_ attitude problems before. As long as he's not going to burn down the Hub while we're sleeping, we should be fine."

"You're not serious," Tosh said suddenly, and Jack guessed that something in Ianto's expression had given him away.

"At the age of _eleven_?" Jack said.

"I always was precocious," Ianto said.

"Ok," said Jack slowly. "We'll just have to keep a really good eye on him. Ianto, you get someplace set up for him to sleep. We'll probably need some decent groceries, too. And um—get something you know he'll like? Something comforting. This isn't exactly a walk in the park."

"Attacked by a monster in a dark alley, and then meeting you lot? I don't imagine it would be," said Ianto.

"I'm not sure you ever grew out of that phase," Jack said.

"Your concern has been noted," said Ianto.

"Jack—" Tosh again. "If Ianto is going to be stuck outside the Hub for the time being, I'm not sure that the data feed project—"

"Can you set up a way for him to work with you from home?" asked Jack. "I know security will be a problem."

"I can get around that," said Tosh, "I'll just have to do some work directly from the flat."

" _Mi casa es su casa_ ," said Ianto. "We'll make a night of it."

"Great," said Jack. "You guys are going to have a LAN party and I'm stuck babysitting. Holy crap!"

"What's happening?" Tosh and Ianto said simultaneously.

"I didn't realize that sneaky thing was ingrained from birth," Jack muttered. "Hang on a minute." The kid was standing outside the driver's side window, all shadow-triangles from the sideways street lighting, all tight skin around the eyes and tenseness in the lips. Jack turned the ignition on the first setting so he could roll down the powered window. "Yes?" he asked.

"Are you going to put me in a fucking cell?" the kid asked pointedly.

Jack blinked at him. "What?"

"You said you were going to put the Domax in a cell," the kid said. "Do you put everything that comes through time into a cell? Because I'm sure as shit not coming with you if that's the case." He crossed his arms and glared.

"And I 'sure as shit' wouldn't tell you if I _were_ going to put you in a cell, so this little confrontation isn't doing you much good," said Jack. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear Tosh and Ianto talking to each other on the other end of the comm, muffled. He thought—this may have been paranoid, but _still_ —he thought he heard someone laugh.

"I can read people," said the kid.

"I've got some alien technology that lets me read people's minds," said Jack.

"Jack!" cried Tosh.

Ianto laughed.

"Are you using it right now?" said the kid, one eyebrow arched.

"I sure am," said Jack.

"You're fucking lying," said the kid, and Ianto too, which was _weird_. Ianto didn't say 'fucking,' though, which was a shame because Jack never complained when grown-up Ianto swore. He found it manly and exciting.

Pre-pubescent Ianto was another matter.

"How about we make a deal," said Jack. "If you stop cussing, I won't put you in a cell."

"You aren't going to put me in a cell anyway," said the kid.

"Try me," said Jack, and grinned.

The kid stared at him for a long moment, face flickering from skepticism to wariness to annoyance to the tiniest smidgen of fear.

Suddenly, Gwen yelped and Owen shouted something obscene.

The kid cocked his head to the side. "I think your little team needs help," he said, voice dripping sweetly with concern. Jack knew better.

He sighed and shot a look behind the SUV, which was silly because he couldn't see anything through the tinted windows.

"Jack?" Tosh said. "Ianto and I are going offline for the moment. Give us a beep if you need us."

"No problem," Jack said. "Get in the backseat," he said to the kid, popping the locks. "You wouldn't like getting squirted with Domax sweat."

The kid pulled a face of utter disgust. "Domaxes squirt sweat?" he said.

"They do when they're unconscious, and the plural form is 'Domaxin,'" Jack said. "Now move."

The kid shifted from the window so Jack could open the door, but kept going until he was in the alley intersection again, watching Gwen and Owen roll the Domax onto a net.

"Backseat, I said!" Jack barked. "Unless you wanna help with _that_." He pointed at the three and a half legs sliding across the pavement, leaving behind a smear of opalescent grease. It looked more like petrol than anything, but smelled like a combination of bacon and mangoes.

The kid stared at the Domax with a pained expression, then glanced at the SUV in equal trepidation. To be fair, the SUV was very threatening. Jack had picked it out on purpose.

"Like I'm gonna get in that fucking thing," said the kid. "I'm not stupid."

"Oh, for fuck's sake...." Owen muttered, and kicked the Domax in the armpit. Something went _squish_.

"Sweetie, we just want to help you," said Gwen, looking very nice and sincere, but she was also breathing heavily and had odd splotches all over her shirt. Not to mention she'd taken off her jacket so all three guns were visible: stun tucked into her belt, standard issue in a side holster, and a snub pistol slung from the shoulder.

The kid made no sign of moving.

"Fine. Make yourself useful by holding my coat," said Jack. He shrugged it off his shoulders and tossed it. The kid fumbled, stepped back for balance, then managed to straighten the coat and fold it over his arm without a single thread touching the ground, almost too quick for Jack to follow.

"That," said Owen, "is freaky."

The kid straightened his shoulders defensively. "I help out in my dad's tailor shop," he said. "But normally people don't _throw_ things at me. You fuckhead," he added glaring.

Jack just laughed and rolled up his shirt sleeves. "Ok," he said, putting his palms against the Domax's middle and bracing his legs. "All three of us should be able to do this. On three. One... two... three!"

With a lot of grunting and some very interesting gasps from Gwen, they managed to flip the Domax so that it sprawled flat on its back in the middle of the net. A gentle arc of sweat spurted from the middle of its belly and glimmered briefly in the streetlight.

"That was like poetry," said the kid. "You should think about selling it to millionaires as a novelty fountain."

Owen and Gwen looked at Jack.

"No," said Jack.

"There's always Parker," said Owen.

" _No_." Jack gave him the Stern Look (he'd been using it a lot today) and then stepped back, clapping his hands. "Ok, you two get the net hooked up to the winch. I'll start up the SUV." As he walked off he could hear Owen muttering,

"Why does he always leave us with the icky jobs? And it was a good idea."

"Until the Domax wakes up and eats the millionaire, you mean," Gwen answered.

"Meh," said Owen. "I bet I could figure out a permanent sedative, or maybe charge a maintenance fee to come out every week to give it an injection. That," he said, sounding proud of himself, "would create a regular profit."

Gwen snorted and mumbled something in reply that Jack didn't catch. The kid was following him, swaying slightly from the weight of the coat.

"You've got a fucking _winch_ in the back of the SUV," the kid said.

"Yep," said Jack. "Helps with the big aliens."

The kid stood by the open driver's door and watched Jack turn the ignition. "What else have you got in there?" he asked, craning his neck.

Jack grinned at him. "Guess you'll never find out, huh? Stand back so I can see," he said, pushing the kid back a few steps. Jack twisted around to watch as Gwen walked over to the corner of the SUV and gave him a thumbs up. Something in the back of the SUV started to whirr and clank when Jack pressed a small grey button on the dashboard.

The kid glanced from Jack to Gwen, then ran to the back of the SUV to watch the Domax slowly rise into the air, bundled into the net. The back of the SUV creaked and settled under the weight. Gwen waved a hand across her throat and it shuddered to a stop.

The kid ran back to Jack in the driver's seat. "Let me do it," he said.

"Does this mean you're coming back with us?" Jack asked in exaggerated surprise.

The kid rolled his eyes. " _Yes_. God. Just let me try it."

The transition was awkward; Jack had to squeeze past the kid in the small space, the door might have gotten a little scraped on the alley wall, _someone_ got their toes stepped on (neither would admit if it were them), and Jack's coat was ridiculously bulky. He lifted it from the kid's arms when he slid into the seat.

"Ok," said Jack, putting his coat back on. "That button—" he pointed, "withdraws the hook into the back. Gwen?" He waited for the nod then said, "Ok, easy on it. It just needs a light tap. Good, yeah—cut it. Good job," he said, squeezing the kid's shoulder. "Now Owen's going to swing it to the right spot, then signal Gwen who'll signal us for the drop. Then you jab _this_ button, hard."

The kid hovered his fingers over the button Jack pointed at, turning to watch Gwen. The successful completion of the operation was marked by a wet thump, and Owen's low groan: "I _knew_ we should've put down a tarp...."

"I, for one, am totally surprised the thing squirted for the _second fucking time_ ," the kid muttered. "Who would've thought?"

"Hey," said Jack. "You need to show Owen some respect."

The kid stared up at him in pitch-perfect confusion. "Really?"

Jack couldn't think of a whole lot to say to that. "Just—move over. I'm not letting you drive."

The kid clearly thought he'd won that conversation, and his resulting grin was so familiar to a thing so strange—Ianto smirked, he pursed, he lifted just the corner of his lips, but he rarely _grinned_ —that Jack was completely disoriented. He remembered he wasn't going to see a lot of Ianto for the next few days or however long it took, and that made him restless. He scowled at the steering wheel.

The kid had just buckled himself into the passenger seat when Owen yanked the door open.

"Oh no," said Owen. "You get in the back."

"I'm a guest," said the kid.

"You're also a little brat, and that's my seat!" Owen snapped.

"Oh, for God's sake, Owen," Gwen sighed as she climbed in behind Jack. "It's your one chance to be the most mature person in the conversation and you're cocking it up already."

"But he—" Owen bit his lip viciously and made a noise deep in his throat. Jack could imagine the look Gwen was giving him: big and brown, but scathing nonetheless. Sort of like an angry cow. An angry _Highland_ cow, with all the fluffy hair. Jack made a mental note to never mention that comparison to Gwen.

Owen slammed the door shut—he still wasn't winning any maturity contests—and got into the backseat. "Clear case of superiority," he was muttering.

The kid twisted in the seat to say judiciously, "I think you mean 'seniority,' as the other word really doesn't apply."

"Wot?" said Owen.

"Ok, let's get going!" said Jack, and started the engine as loudly as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

It took about five minutes for Jack to decide that he liked the grown-up version of Ianto better.

The kid was staring at him steadily from the passenger seat. "That was an illegal turn," he said coldly.

Jack didn't answer, and the silence spun out for a few long moments.

"And you're speeding," the kid added.

"Don't you wish I were in the front seat now?" Owen said.

Jack swore he could hear Gwen rolling her eyes. He gripped the wheel more tightly and tapped his earpiece. "Toshiko," he said. "We're on the road. Should take about twenty minutes to get back."

"Fifteen," Tosh corrected. "You're going to hit a lot of green lights if you maintain your current speed. Not that you generally stop for red lights," she added in a mumble.

"Fifteen minutes," Jack repeated. "Will you and your lovely assistant have things ready by then?"

"I'm almost ready now," said Tosh, "I'm just packing up some equipment to take to Ianto's flat. I think he's going to need more time, though."

"Jack." Ianto sounded somewhat futzy, which meant that he was in that one sublevel of the Hub that always played havoc on the comms, no matter what tweaks Jack and Toshiko made to the system. "I've got a bed set up down here, but groceries will have to wait until morning. That is, unless you want to feed him a microwave burrito from the nearest petrol station."

"Let's pass on that," Jack said. He looked over at the kid. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

The kid, scrunched against the window with his arms folded, took a moment to make sure Jack was talking to him. His face flickered dark, yellow, dark as they drove under streetlights. "Not really, no," he mumbled, then went back to looking out the windscreen.

"There's another problem," Ianto was saying. "Obviously it's not that difficult to remove myself from the Hub, but there will remain a residue of my genetic material all over the place."

Owen, who was listening on the open channel, said, "We don't need details, thank you!"

"—such as hair and skin cells," Ianto continued pointedly. "Gwen, if you could...."

"No problem at all," said Gwen, and smacked Owen.

"Oi!"

"This is so weird," muttered the kid. "You all sound like nutters, talking to the voices in your heads."

"If only you knew the half of it," Owen muttered. "Believe me, it's weirder for us than it is for you."

Jack sent a quelling look back at Owen, but he had to admit that hearing Ianto's voice from two different places, even if one version hadn't hit puberty yet, was highly disturbing.

Tosh's computer went _beep_. "There would be epithelial cells on their clothes and in the SUV as well, but it doesn't seemed to have caused a problem yet," she pointed out.

"I gave the SUV a very thorough clean yesterday," Ianto put in, then added in a mutter, "I'll probably have to do it again tomorrow." He mumbled something after that which Jack didn't quite catch, but considering the smell wafting slowly from the boot he could wager a guess.

"Perhaps there aren't enough cells to cause a problem," Toshiko says. "Jack, you know more about crossing timelines than we do. Will it be safe to bring him into the Hub?"

"I dunno," said Jack. "I've had this problem before, but my wrist-strap has built-in safeties. I think they're only keyed in to me, however. Wait a minute," he said. "Ia—Toshiko. Have the archivist check in the third sublevel storage rooms. I think we scavenged a Paradox Minimizer back in the 1920s. No-one knew what it did then, and I didn't say anything, so it was filed under miscellaneous or unknown."

"What does it look like?" Ianto asked. "Artifacts in Unknown are generally indexed by description of appearance."

Jack glared in concentration at the road for a few moments, foot bearing down slightly more heavily on the gas.

"That would be red light number five," said the kid. "We should file _you_ under 'Fucking Public Menace.'"

"Or 'Menace Due to Public Fucking,'" Owen suggested.

The kid smirked. "Public Fucker of Menaces," he said.

"Now _that_ ," said Owen, "would be a quality comic book hero."

"Lord help us," muttered Gwen. "They're teaming up."

"Jaaaack," Ianto drawled. "Come in, Jack."

"Sorry," Jack said. "It was—I think it was metal. With flashing lights."

"That narrows it down splendidly," Ianto groused. His line wasn't staticky anymore, so Jack presumed he had headed for the storeroom already. "This may take a while."

Toshiko sounded excited all of a sudden. "Jack, would this Paradox Minimizer have similar characteristics as your wrist-strap? I have a profile of your wrist-strap already entered into my technology scanners, and maybe if I knew what it might have in common with the Minimizer I could program then scanners to search for those characteristics."

"Great thinking, Toshiko!" Jack said. "You're absolutely right. There's a certain type of metal that's commonly used with temporal equipment. It's an alloy with copper, rubidium, and—I can't remember what the other metal is called. It's an actinoid, atomic number 103?"

"Lawrencium," said Ianto and the kid simultaneously.

"Oh my God," Gwen moaned.

" _Freak_ ," Owen agreed with a shudder.

"I had to memorise the periodic table in primary school," they explained.

"Yeah, Toshiko, does that help you out any?" Jack said quickly. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

"Yes, it does," she muttered distractedly. "Jack, this is still going to take a while to find it, and I have no idea how to make it work when we do."

"Don't worry, I'll be there in a few minutes," Jack said.

"That's rather the problem," Ianto said.

Gwen leaned forward, edging into the corner of Jack's vision. "Sweetheart?" she said to the kid. "Are you sure you're not hungry? We could go to an all-night diner. My treat."

The kid glanced searchingly from Gwen to Jack.

Jack flashed a grin at him. "Or maybe just some dessert if you're not hungry. You don't want to be hanging around when we get the Domax back out again, do you?"

The kid shrugged and slumped back against the window. "Fine," he said. "Whatever you want."

"I just need to get a change of clothes," Gwen said, mostly to Jack, "then we can take my car."

Jack nodded and whispered, "Good job."

"Don't mention it," Gwen smiled, and faded into the backseat.

Jack ran stop light number six, but only barely. "Toshiko, it's all going to work out fine."

Owen crossed his arms. "You never take me to all-night diners," he said.

"Oh, shut it," said Gwen, and shoved Owen gently.


	4. Chapter 4

Once in the bright lights of the car park, everyone felt their hearts jump into their throats when they stared at the kid.

"What?" he said, eyes skittering around to each of them.

"Blimey," said Owen.

"Ok, let's get that Domax out of the boot as fast as we can," Jack said slightly too loudly, and helpfully steered Gwen towards the door to the Hub. "You wanna shake a leg there, sweetheart?" he said.

"Oh, right," she muttered. "I'll be right out, ok?" She nodded at the kid and he nodded back. He was still suspicious and tight-skinned around the eyes, but it didn't disguise that he was Ianto in miniature, different only in the hairline and the clothes.

Jack got a grip on himself and looked at the kid. "You wanna handle the winch again?" he asked.

"Yeah," said the kid, and gave a sly, boyish smile. Jack remembered Ianto smiling like that and wondered if his brain could literally explode. Already he was feeling a pressure inside the skull, a dizzy-sick sense of time collapsing. They called it "folding consciousness" in the Time Agency, as if your brain were a wrinkled shirt.

"Oh my God," Tosh said softly over the comm.

"Toshiko, your channel's open," Jack pointed out as he yanked open the boot doors. "Have you found that thing yet? Owen, you push."

Owen let out a sigh of utter despair and other such put-upon things as he hopped up into the boot and edged around to the other side of the Domax. "You reckon I should give him another sed?" he asked, already reaching into the pocket of his jacket.

"Ianto's unpacking it now," Tosh said. "I know the resolution on these cameras isn't very good, but disregarding the height disparity I really can't tell the difference."

"You reckon you want it to wake up before we get it into the cell?" Jack said to Owen, who rolled his eyes. "I know this is a little weird, but really, you guys are acting like you never thought of it before."

"Well it's never happened, has it?" asked Tosh. "At least not to us, and I don't think there's anything in the archives about it, either."

"Do we get hazard pay for this?" Owen called out, half-hidden behind the Domax's scraggle-haired belly.

"There's no hazard!" Jack yelled.

"Psychological trauma then," Owen answered. "Alright, that should keep it doped up for a while."

"I don't see what's so traumatizing," Tosh put in.

"You wouldn't," Owen muttered, and grabbed for the winch hook.

"The only person who has a right to be traumatized is Ianto," said Tosh.

"Both of them," Jack added with a grin. Owen's aggrieved expression from the shadow of the boot just made him grin wider. "Come on," he said. "This could be fun!"

"Are we going to do some work soon?" called the kid from the front seat. "Or are you going to chat around all day?"

Owen looked at Jack. "What did I tell you," he said. "Psychological trauma."

Jack just glared at him and didn't answer.


End file.
